


Colour

by alien_in_the_sea



Series: Royai Week 2016 [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Royai Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7112152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alien_in_the_sea/pseuds/alien_in_the_sea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he lost his sight, Roy was scared. He was scared that he would never see Riza's colours again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colour

He thought he’d lost it. He really did.

Roy Mustang relied on his vision for everything he did. Where other people could resign themselves to their sightless fate, Roy had lost one of the most precious things he had.

To him, being able to see involved and meant a lot of things.

It meant that he could see the country of Amestris back to what it was meant to be. It meant that he would be able to see his goal, the goal that he fought so hard for, fulfilled. He wanted to see Amestris back to what it was meant to be before Bradley, before Ishval and before Father.

Being able to see also meant that his use of fire alchemy would be as great as it got. Without his eyesight, he wasn’t able to pinpoint where to cause the flames to go. Without his eyesight, he wasn’t as good as he possibly could’ve been at a skill that took years to learn, was hard sacrifice, killed many people and damaged Riza. Without his sight he wasn’t able to use that burden as a blessing as well as he could’ve been.

But his worst concern was, as he laid down in a hospital bed, listening to Riza’s even breathing was, that he would never see in colour again.

For him, life was composed of lines and colours. And he didn’t care about the lines, that were so meaningless and dull without colour.

His eyes burned from crying, but not even that could wash out the pitch black off his eyes.

Roy was scared and heartbroken.

He would never be able to see the way Riza’s hair was golden under the light of the sun. He would never be able to see her brown eyes, that held the riches of the Earth in their plainness. He would never be able to see her cheeks blush after he made a particularly dumb comment about their future and being together.

Roy didn’t want red to be the most predominant colour he saw last. Yes, he saw many more, but they were all dark and reminded him of old things.

But there was the horrible red that plagued his last memories. The red that covered Riza’s clothes, and hair, and neck. The red that stuck to her skin and his. The red pool of blood that reminded him that he almost lost her and it was his fault.

He didn’t want to remember that as the last colour. There was the white from what Edward called “The Truth” but in his mind, that white was irrelevant compared to that crimson hell that meant he almost lost his Queen, if it hadn’t been for that little girl from Xing.

He wanted to see colour. When he lost his sight, he realised how important colour was for him.

Colour was a beautiful thing and he wanted to be able to see it. He wanted to be able to share colours with Riza.

He wanted to sit next to her looking out of the window in her apartment, just as the sun started to rise, and just look at the colours of the sky and the different shades changing.

He wanted to see Riza her long flower dress, that was made of yellows, oranges, reds and everything in between. He wanted to be able to go on a date with Riza to the beach and look at the deep blue of the water, and see the sun and sky reflected in it, as the sun went down and the water and the sky were one big mass of pinks and purples and oranges.

He wanted to be able to see Riza paint, a pastime she hadn’t spent much time on since she joined the military, and see her thin hand trace lines of many different colours and mix them together. She loved the way she made every colour, every green, every blue, every yellow, every red, every purple, every white and every black as essential to the bigger picture as the other. Roy loved the way she was able to make every colour work with each other to make the most beautiful pictures anyone had seen.

Breathtaking paintings of moments past, paintings that could make you weep or laugh, that could make your heart skip a beat or take all of the air out of your lungs with one look at them.

She had painted Ishval, she had painted Edward and Alphonse the day after their accident, she had painted Maes Hughes, wearing his biggest smile, halfway through a laugh, painted so beautifully and accurately, you could almost hear his laugh and some comment about his cute daughter. She had painted the face of every person that had fallen during the war and she said she was going to paint everyone who had helped during the battle against the Homonculi.

She had painted Roy smiling (although she didn’t know he saw that one), she had painted Edward sleeping, she had painted what she thought Alphonse looked like.

She wanted to paint Edward, Winry, Alphonse, Ling, May, Scar, Olivier.

Riza was going to paint the world one day, and he was sure it would be beautiful.

The colours would mix together perfectly, to make the exact shade of red of Ed’s cloak, she would find the right colours to paint Winry’s hair and would be able to portray, through colour, Ling’s mischievous attitude, and May’s kindness.

He wished he could see it all.

He wanted to see her, covered in many colours, some deep blue near her nose and a soft pink near her left eye, happy and smiling, being as bright and yellow and anyone could be.

Roy had always taken colour for granted, but as he laid down in a hospital bed, with Riza on his arms (she had slipped into his bed in the middle of the night, and to keep them from getting in trouble, she would probably be gone by the time they woke up), feeling her chest rise and fall rhythmically, he realised how much colour he needed.

Those now cloudy dark pools needed colour to fill them and make everything better.

And he was scared he would never see Riza and her colours again.


End file.
